Reverence of Lost Nostalgia
by DeathMoonLight
Summary: Time is a sketchy concept, questions of its surmount-ability pressing upon scientists daily. Even more difficult to comprehend, though, are memories, an idea held within one’s mind. How do you grasp onto something with so little understanding of it? S/K
1. Prolouge: Guarded by Hindsight

Summary:

**Summary**:

Time is a sketchy concept, questions of its surmount-ability pressing upon scientists daily. Even more difficult to comprehend, though, are memories, an idea held within one's mind. The mind can play tricks, making one believe an event came to pass, when it did not, or it represses memories that bring pain. Time intertwines memories, making it seem as though events never took place, for, what is an event without knowledge and recognition that it took place? How do you grasp onto something with so little understanding of it? How does one conquer that which can not be known?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Inuyasha or any of its characters.

**A/N**:

Um I haven't been writing FFs in a while, or reading them for that matter, but I recently started up again, needing an artistic release as of late. It just so happens I've been into Sess/Kag fics again, and having read a few new good ones, I was filled with an insatiable urge to write write write. Not one to deny myself art, I allowed the pleasure and embraced it. :P Enjoyable indeed. Haha. Well either way, this is kinda just to get myself a bit more settled. I want to see the sort of reactions people give to this prologue before I continue on too deeply into the story.

**Reverence of Lost Nostalgia**

**Prologue**:

**Guarded with Hindsight**

A large crowd stood, gathered about the entrance of an ominous cave. Hushed whispers and subtle murmurs of curiosity and anxiety ran across the air above them, rushing about madly, creating a sound of havoc, thus echoing in and about the cave. The noise sounded rather eerie as it was flung back at the crowd by the disapproving grotto, which wanted nothing more than to be rid of the vile and selfish thoughts expressed within the resonance. Still, though, they persisted, remaining blissfully ignorant of the pressure they were building up for the one who had brought about the commotion to the unsuspecting cave.

The mass was divided up amongst them. Although the divisions were mainly incognito, there remained some sort of structure to them. To the right were humans, the left were demons and those with demon blood, and between the two groups they were further divided between men and women. Of course those then grouped off into their friends and allies, but that remains to be unimportant as each of them had gathered to witness the very same thing, the one thing the world had been expecting. The means to an end. Turmoil would end, fighting would dissipate, as much as was possible among such selfish beings, and lives would be saved. Four years, and finally, their world was being set to peace.

One brave soul, deciding that waiting outside was much too taxing upon his life, stepped forward, towards the entrance of the cave. His long brown hair hung greasily against his head, and his sweaty palms clenched at his kimono. It seemed normal enough and it was silent enough to welcome him, but not foreboding. As he neared it, his steps became less tentative, courage gathering within. He stood tall, fearless, and the world seemed to hush about him, waiting to see what would come of this. He was inside now, a cold sweat beading lightly at his temples, but he neither slowed nor allowed it to deter him.

He was determined.

The tension that had gathered in everyone seemed to fade instantly when the young man came in contact with a strong barrier that glowed brightly when he tried to push past it. It shimmered threateningly, and pulsed, throwing the man backwards.

Silence.

Soon the sound rose again as people began to talk readily of the humbled man. He quickly regained his composure and hastily got to his feet, burying himself deep into the crowd so as not to draw any more attention to him.

No longer was the talk quiet, but boisterously loud, sending a wave of clatter into the cave, which could no longer keep up and was spitting back the echoes at longer intervals. Or perhaps it was actually shorter, just that the noise, once echoed, became indecipherable and annoying, bouncing raggedly against the walls.

Deep within the cave, at the very end of the dark tunnel, sat a woman, clad in Miko garbs. Her ears picked up the loud sound of those who awaited her outside, sending small shivers down along her spine with each sentence uttered. Easily able to pick up each stanza, each phrase they expressed to one another enthusiastically-- a true endowment that was gained after long years of practicing with incomprehensible babble-- doubt shifted through her mind, clouding her already irresolute judgment. In the recesses of the dark cave, the woman clenched her fists and bared her teeth angrily.

Were these really the beings she was to save? Were these really the cousins, daughters, aunts, sons, uncles, friends, lovers, and parents of those she wished to relieve burden from? What sort of world was she trying to liberate, here, in this dark lonely cave?

Why was she so scared?

How funny it was that she would be thinking all of this, her, of all people. Was she not the compassionate one? Was she not a loyal being to anyone who earned her trust? Was she not giving, and eternally patient with those who were unknowingly ignorant of her pains and struggles? Since when had she become so morose, so bitter, that not even she could recognize herself?

Ah.

It must have been then.

She shook her head, deftly pressing past her own thoughts.

Selfless.

Pure.

Caring.

Loving.

Understanding.

Yes. This was her. This was what she had morphed herself into over the long years of her life. What more could she possibly bring out now, when all was about to end? She could see her own figure walking about cities, forests, and caverns, but why, pray tell, was her body always different in each memory of her self? Who else was she but her self, who else could she ever be but herself?

She was their savior, their ever expending liberator, born solely for the purpose of dying. It was like some sick untold sacrifice ritual.

Could this truly be her destiny, her purpose in life? To die for those she loved, those she cared for, those she was fond of, those she knew, and those she would never meet? Had it always been this way, or had she somehow altered what it was she was supposed to do in her life?

Sadness filled her being, eyes staring blindly into the pitch black in front of her. Absently, her arms reached out towards the wall she knew was in front of her, fingers grazing about the rough stone. How harsh this reality was to her soft body. Nevertheless, she had taken this responsibility upon herself, and she would pull through. The day she had come to terms with what she had set herself to do was the day her life no longer belonged to her.

A wistful glaze took over her blue eyes, illuminating them brightly in the eternal dark. 'Still, I wish I had actually known what that meant… I wish I had a reason to drop this façade of strength and be who I was before everything…'

Wishing was a waste though, and she knew as much. How many times had she wished in her life only to find that the fates would not let her have her way, no matter the circumstance? This would be no different now. 'Right, this was my chosen path. Its isn't my place to decide that those people outside deserve to die or live. I can only give them the opportunity to face their own destiny.'

Eyes hardened with resolve she gazed down at the small glass orb in her hand. The Shikon no Tama, completed and pure, sitting in her palm awaiting her wish to finally banish it from this world. Not restraining her heart anymore, she allowed her dulled blue eyes to shed hot tears.

This was her star moment, her ten seconds of fame. The world would remember her for this. Or at least, those who knew what she was doing. What she was going to do.

The impatience had grown with those gathered about outside, as more had attempted to gain access to the cave.

A bright light blasted over them, bathing them over in a feeling of serenity. If never before in their lives they had felt peace, now they had. As it slowly ebbed away, life seemed to stop completely, none daring to move, trying to gather their wits about them.

Why did the world seem more dank suddenly?


	2. Chapter 1: Breaking Routine

**Chap Summary**:

Recollections of a past lacking memories. Is it truly his life that he sees? Is that all that took place from the time he was born until the point where the world was sunken into Chaos? How could such a seemingly long life have gone by without there having been any one thing to want to hold close to his heart? What was missing?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Inuyasha or its characters.

**A/N**:

Ok, so here is the second chapter. Just so anyone out there is wondering, I usually make chapters about 5000 words long each (although I pretty much got lazy on this one lol), except prologues, which I believe aren't meant for detailing a story, rather they are to close a door that hasn't yet been opened… if you understand me…? Lol Um. I suppose I have decided to try to update at least once a week, if possible. I don't really have anything to explain yet really… Nothing I can really say before you read the chapter. So on with the next (technically first) chapter!!

* * *

**Chapter One**:

**Breaking Routine**

One long pointed nail was tapping incessantly upon the low wooden table, bearing into it a small crescent shaped hole from the extended repeat of its abuse. Next to the rhythmic digit was an elbow, propped unceremoniously atop the surface, leading up to a hand, bent to support the weight of a heavy head. The head held a long silver mane of hair, cascading down the beings back in a braid at the nape of a long neck until it struck just at mid waist. The face of the, undeniably, male figure held a look of pure boredom, dulling his eyes to a mute tan color, and his lips tilting downwards in dissatisfaction.

_These congregations remain to be utterly pointless. _How many times had he been given the option of an escape from these mind numbing meetings, only to turn them down with the idea that he was bound by duty to slowly dispose of himself-- it seemed that way at any rate. In all reality, though, these small but frequent gatherings were wholly necessary for his mental development as a lord. As it were, the empire was already beginning to slip beneath his fingers as problems within the margins of family were beginning to brew.

"Sesshoumaru-sama!" A deep and irritated voice rang out into the small proximities of the room all five found themselves seated in. "Please forgive us for our lack

of common ground in your inattentiveness to such a grave matter." His teeth were being grit together, most probably to hold back any verbal lashings he would wish to inflict on the young dog demon. The image of a man with long canines protruding from each side of his mouth, light brown hair, cut short against his head, which seemed to sway with the aura of anger he exuded. His eyes were a dark red color, and quickly becoming darker still at the lack of reaction from the boy who felt no need to be in this meeting mentally.

The image would have instilled fear in any other man.

Unfortunately, Sesshoumaru was that very singular exception, and he merely gazed languidly at the bear demon before him. Raising an eyebrow in forbearance, he opened his mouth, leaving it as such for a moment before smirking with evil intent.

"I can assure you that the only one here who does not share this perspective remains to be only you, Okari-san. We are gathered in this dull room merely because you are unable to maintain control of your lands in the north. Were I in your position I would be more quick with my silence than my tongue, lest I lose the alliance and power I so desperately need." Sesshoumaru could only watch in silent satisfaction as the man in front of him seethed in humiliation. His brow drew down, narrowing his eyes to show only the glint of accomplishment within them.

"Who are you to throw at me the circumstances of my lands when yours remain to be crumbling at the foundation?!"

Anger flashed through Sesshoumaru's eyes, who slowly sat up to tower above the seated lord. Okari quickly followed suit, and stood over him by a few inches, but the intimidation was greater from Sesshoumaru, as opposed to towards. "Need I remind you that you are a guest within my home, in my lands, and are asking for my assistance, a boy not half your age, not even the lord of these lands yet? Need I reacquaint you with your very harsh reality that you, a man of nigh a century of life is failing at a revoltingly mounting pace, where a boy of 300 years and no experience in managing an entire kingdom is keeping stability and order? I sit here merely to assure that all runs smoothly in our plans to aid you; do not make me retract my generals and leave you to your self built fate."

Briskly, he walked out of the room, leaving behind the silence of defeat. A sadistic smile curled his lips.

This was a sound he would gladly acquaint himself with.

* * *

Sesshoumaru walked down the corridors of his home, the wood vibrating under the weight of his footfalls. No sound was exuded from the action, but the vibrations underneath him were telltale signs of his presence, the wave of it radiating outward in a budding radius, slowly growing weaker the further away from him it became.

Silently, he slid back a heavy shoji door, entering and closing it again behind him. Standing in place, eyes scanning his surroundings, Sesshoumaru let his mask fall. It was not that he placed up a façade where he hid his very being. What he presented was what he was, but there was no need for the world to read his thoughts as they skittered across his face as well. Neither was the feat tasking nor difficult, but it would be known that it did take a certain amount of dedication. Within the confines of his own room, though, there was no one person of which he should hide his, sometimes distracting, emotions. Nevertheless, if there was someone to be found in his room, he would either be too delirious from illness or wounds-- low as that probability may be-- to concentrate on keeping his face blank.

Or they were of the deepest confidences.

_Confident…? Were there such a person in this world who would be eloquent enough to keep pace with me-- for how else would one gain my trust--there would be no reason to read emotions. My thoughts would be known immediately to them, and they would tend to such as is needed. _He nearly felt the urge to spit upon himself, and scoffed lightly at the image he found in the bronze disk he used as a mirror.

_To harbor such romantic notions about 'friendship' or 'love'. Perhaps I am speaking with my father too much in these present days. Am I foolish enough to take upon the words of a man bringing about the end of his empire because he lacks control of his emotions? _He drew closer to the reflection of his visage, placing a pointed nail against the side of it. The image was distorted, even to his own eyes, wavering in places were his face did not curve, shining in areas where there was nothing to gleam.

_I am to believe this is who I appear as to those who their lay eyes upon me?_

When had he become so lost in cleaning up his fathers dirty tracks that he had lost sight of the only thing he could monitor with, what was to be, an affinity: his own life, his own thoughts, his very being.

_I am to believe, that despite my direct depiction of who I have become to this day, not one person can see that who I portray has always been myself?_

When had he stopped trying to remember the day that had just passed?

He scoffed at himself again, narrowing his eyes in anger, uttering out into the air, "Romantic notions, indeed…" He gazed through the window, staring out at the setting sun. Rather vaguely passing his mind, Sesshoumaru couldn't help but wonder if, at any point, the sun would not have to set in the West.

* * *

The sun did not rise the next morning-- or so it seemed-- as its path had been covered and overtaken by selfish dark clouds. Each one drifted by aimlessly, lazily pulling apart and reorganizing itself, seemingly uncaring of the fact that the day was set to a dismal mood and slow pace for it.

Sesshoumaru could not bring himself to leave his bed, perfectly content to lay there in his silks, acting as much the part of a cloud as he could. He was no grand fan of over exertion, and he was sane enough to realize when he was bordering on that line. Today he would list about lazily, picking at his heart and mind, eliminating and moving parts of himself that seemed to meander too far away from what was _Sesshoumaru_.

Not even he could prevent the feeling of humor the thought brought about by this.

A day in dedication to him and his self induced awakening.

How very… _indulging_, for lack of better description.

Not once before in his 300 years of life could there be a day he recalled having devoted to doing as he pleased, without worry of consequence. Then again, he couldn't actually even remember the last 300 years of his life. All he knew was the here and the now.

Here: The Western Lands. His home. His Room. His Bed.

Now: Rule in question. Honor in question. Self in question. _His._

Since he was a child, this room had been his, but he could hardly recollect any memory of it. It was not an important part of his life; in it he slept, he dressed, and, occasionally, he bedded woman.

A loud commotion burst from the hallway adjacent to the one with his room.

"This is my home and I shall place who I see fit where I see fit! Izayoi is my responsibility and I shall care for her as close to me as I can."

"This human wench has no right to be seen near your presence after ensnaring you with a pregnancy that you wished nothing of!"

"Whether or not I wished for this does not matter, as it is _my burden to bear_ now, and I will care for it with every lasting drop of my strength."

Already dressed and prepared for the day, Sesshoumaru left the small retreat that was his room-- a vast growth in importance, he vaguely noticed-- heading towards his father's hallway, wishing to pacify the general of his query towards his father's _honor, _though he himself felt the question when he first became aware that his father impregnated another woman while his life mate still lived.

What honor was there in breaking tradition and _trust_?

_Perhaps these idealistic philosophies on camaraderie were not truly derived from my father after all, but more so a lack of my own experience in the situation. _This he had to admit to himself. When it came to more intimate relationships, he was at a total loss, never having experienced it. In a sense, he was a bit socially awkward, not knowing what to say or how to say what he wanted to. Perhaps even close to _shy_. This companion he had yet to find would, then, alleviate from him the need to have to fumble in his mind for proper words.

He came upon his father and one of their better generals, Hokado, a firebird demon, nearly choking one another, although not a single finger was lifted against the other. Off to the side stood the mother to a bastard child, a bastard _hanyou_ child, Izayoi. What worse status can one achieve through birth alone beyond being blind, deaf, or dumb?

She seemed to be completely blocking out the argument, having witnessed many of the same kind. There seemed to glow a soft sadness in her eyes, but he paid little attention to that and brusquely cut off the general from his continuing rant.

"Hokado, surely you do not find you are in a high enough position to go against your lord's will?" He saw the firebird almost start, before he turned his attention to Sesshoumaru, where he pointedly bowed.

"Young master, I merely express my discontent in the idea of the reason for our lands turmoil residing even closer still to us."

"And you prove this through example, I presume, as you are raising about such an upheaval it is sure to get the _servants_ to consider revolt?" He watched as understanding dawned in his eyes, and slightly narrowed his own in warning. "Be sure to know that this family cares not for your opinion on the matter, but were you to find the need to express it, you will do it in a civil manner where you are alone with my father, discussing this methodically. You are dismissed."

He didn't pay attention to the general after that point, pointedly ignoring the bow and response he gave. He assumed it to be something along the lines of 'I understand, young master, this lapse will not be repeated again.' Instead he paid his full attention to his father who had just finished guiding Izayoi into her new room. The Inu no Taisho stepped out of the room again, shutting the shoji door behind him, and stood in his place, staring at Sesshoumaru as if the boy had grown a second head or third arm.

There was a look of displeasure in his eyes as he seemed to find, or more so, not find what it was that he had been searching for.

"When was it I lost my position as Lord of the Western Lands, my son?"

So many days. There were so many days he knew he could name, but for the life of him, he could only remember one of those days, as it was a repeating event, a constant he hadn't evaded yet. "The day my mother refused to leave her room."

The great dog demon stared into Sesshoumaru's eyes, once again searching, and finding only the distance between himself and his first son, and he felt the urge, suddenly, to say what the world wished to know. He felt the urge to let his son know what it was he saw as important in life.

"I do not regret, nor do I dread this fate I have sealed for myself. I know perfectly well what will come of my actions, and that they do not fair well for anyone. Despite that the entirety of these lands has been effected, I can not bring myself to hate what I have done, because I can still remember the first time she spoke my name." With that, he turned and walked off, heading out to war to fend off a growing dispute.

He may not be the reigning head, but he was still, by far, the most powerful demon any person had laid their eyes upon.

His father may have lost his honor, but he would never lose the respect he called for.

He did not pretend to understand his father, or what he had said that day, because they both knew that each had such different views on the world, that even after thoroughly examining the material presented, they would never reach a common ground place.

Sesshoumaru turned, briefly eyeing the door to Izayoi's room, before heading down towards the end of his father's hallway. Today was obviously not the day for him to laze about carelessly, nor would there ever be such a day for him.

Turning towards the end of the corridor, his steps long and paced, Sesshoumaru reminded himself all the reasons why he could not, _should not_, take this day for himself. The list of his many responsibilities ran through his head, making his vision fade, and he hardly even perceived where he was heading, but did so flawlessly as he took the memorized path ahead of him.

Slowly, a clawed hand reached for the door before him, before suddenly stalling in its movement, as if uncertainty had overtaken its owner. That couldn't be it though, for no one person could claim to have ever seen Sesshoumaru hesitate at anything. Ever action was mapped out, evaluated, assessed, and any possible failings were plucked away. Then why was it that his hand always betrayed him when it came to reaching out for this door?

Figuratively stepping away from his own anxiety, Sesshoumaru placed the hand flat against the wooden pane of the door, standing still for a moment, waiting for something, listening for something. Inside of the room, he heard a soft scratch of nails at the floor, followed by another. His hand applied pressure upon the wood before sliding it out of his way, allowing his body to briskly step through. After securing the door behind him, Sesshoumaru looked towards the far end of the room, already knowing what it was that he would see there.

Briefly his eyes played a trick upon him, the image of himself at the young age of 50 (2 by human years) running about the room before he tripped on the floor, falling flat on his face. He quickly sat up and stared at the ground, before he felt a hand reach out and touch his shoulder tenderly. He looked up into the green eyes of his mother, eyes wide with wonder.

"This, Sesshoumaru, is why you do not run about carelessly. Just as I reprimand you, the outcome of your actions shall as well."

Blinking to chase off the scene-- might it be added that he did so quite indolently-- his vision refocused to show his mother seated on the cold wood, with the shoji door to the center garden within the castle open. She stared listlessly out into the sky, watching those lazy dark clouds float by. Her long light blue hair, almost to the point of white, fell down the length of her back until it touched the floor. It was slightly matted, pointing out that she had obviously been sitting with the door open for quite some time, long enough for the moisture in the air to dampen her hair.

"You intend to stand today."

"I do."

"You intend to walk today."

"I do."

"You intend to cleanse yourself today."

"I do."

For the following few moments, there was only silence as both of them stared out into sky. The conversation was routine. Everyday Sesshoumaru came into this room, everyday he made sure that she would scratch at the floor twice, allowing him entrance, and everyday Sesshoumaru left with nothing else to have to attend to. He would later tell the servants to bring her food and to tend to her ever whim, while he, himself, went about the castle, doing what his father could no longer do. Run the palace.

Of course this was to be his mother's job when father was away, although not by reverence of the women herself, but through pure terror of the man she symbolized, but the woman refused to act her place since the day father first walked out to meet Izayoi.

And everyday, he would walk out of this room, after sharing a short silence with her, wondering whether or not it would change anything if he were to ask something different, but never once did he attempt it. This dialogue that they shared day in, and day out had been around since the day Sesshoumaru took his first steps, although, then the roles had been switched.

Today though, was not everday passed, and today had certainly not been running the same as any other day. Call it temporary insanity, but Sesshoumaru suddenly felt the urge to _do something_. Something about this day was making him _want_ things he never wanted before-- and let it be known that making Sesshoumaru want _anything_ was a feat itself. He wanted to act as young as he was, he wanted to go off and flirt with woman, he wanted to be everything he _wasn't_, everything he had ever denied himself of since birth.

Sesshoumaru could remember clearly that not one day after he fell on his face did he run about merrily.

He had learned his lesson.

He had learned _too_ well.

"Yes, but do you aim to be the Lady you are, today? Or, perchance, to annul the very title by every means, preparing yourself to dance in the rain to come, bare footed, clad only in the scantest covering of a yukata, and cry out your agony, joy, anger, exhilaration, yelling into the clouds for the winds to carry off?" But this was today, and today was not just any day for Sesshoumaru, he now remembered. Today was _his_ day. Today was not about these lands, or this castle, or his father or mother. Today was _him_.

His mother did not move though, did not incline her head or move a finger in his direction. She did not nod in acknowledgement nor did she laugh at the proposition. She remained staring at the sky, not even batting an eyelash.

"Today I am not the son of the Inu no Taisho. Today I am not the heir to the Western lands. Today I do not go by the name Sesshoumaru, neither am I demon of the Inu blood. I am but a being who wishes to solicit his mother for her accompaniment in his quest for a day of peace and normality." His hand stretched out towards her, silently waiting for her response. He did not blink but he did not stare.

"Were this woman to accompany this being before her, would he also be asked to seek this peace? Or perhaps peace of mind? Would she then be free of her own minds burdens? Will this bring about a happiness lost?"

"I can not say." There was no reason to lie. He knew very well that this may be a wasted day, if anything, he _planned_ it to be so. There were no empty promises, no chance of reaching a goal, merely a chance of abnormality to his life in order to reach a normality in any other life.

The woman turned her face to him, and a smile broke across her purple lips. The brightest smile she had ever given him in the whole of his life.

"Then what can this broken woman do but follow the only voice against reason that she has heard in the entirety of these past months." Her hand slipped into his, and he too smiled at his mother. The marks on her face once again became vivid, as they were beginning to fade into her skin. They were a strike going down across each cheek, colored purple, and a small star kissing each of her temples as well, in a bright pink color. The moisture in the air and the dark light shining off of her pale skin creating the perfect depressing mood he needed to set about the day.

He helped her up to her feet, the dark blue yukata unfolding slowly, as they had not been moved from quite some time. Offering his arm, he let her loop her own, before walking out of the room silently.

Perhaps he was wrong about this day after all.

Perhaps today was _their_ day.

* * *

**A/N**:

Well there you have it. A bit of insight on Sesshoumaru now. Actually I had about… 3 different ways I had planned for this first chapter. The other two staring with Kagome, but I just felt that the most proper way to start the story was to follow up Kagome's future, with Sesshoumaru's past…. Huh huh?? –elbows-

Ok yeah I know, shut up. But yeah if you have any questions, please do not hesitate to ask me!! I'll be glad to answer. Thanks! Hope you enjoyed. Oh and please let me know if you notice any inconsistencies. Sometimes I overlook a few points or something and things get confusing. Heh P


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